Amid My Closing Memories
by Akarui KH
Summary: Remus reflects on the death of a friend. Very very angsty, rather dramatic. My first fic, please read and review! OOTP Spoilers You Have Been Warned


A/N - This is my first Fanfic for ff.net. I warn you, it's a dark, angsty little thing. If you don't like angst - don't read. AND REVIEW! Make the new ff.net author happy, review her dramatic ficlet. XD  
  
Warnings  
  
1. MAJOR Order of the Phoenix/Book 5 spoilers  
  
Rating  
  
PG, bordering close to PG-13. Why? Very angsty, very dramatic. Much minor cursing. There.  
  
Main Characters  
  
Sirius, Remus  
  
Disclaimer  
  
I don't own ANY of it. Except the plot. And I barely even own THAT. Okay? Don't sue me, I'm 12 years old! =hides=  
  
A/N (Again) - There's the general stuff. Now on to the ficlet.  
  
Remus awoke to the gentle sounds of birds chirping. Despite the fact that the curtains were pulled down, shielding his window, beams of sunlight still streamed through into his second-floor bedroom at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.  
  
His first instinct was to get out of bed and peer down the hall to see if Sirius's bedroom door had been opened yet. Then he remembered that Sirius wouldn't be waking up in Grimmauld Place this morning. A frown crossed the werewolf's features as he only half-willingly stumbled out of bed and put on the first shirt and pair of pants he could find.  
  
He seriously considered laying back down under the warm, inviting sheets. To forget everything that had happened the previous night. To drift endlessly in a sea of dreams, without the burdens of life.  
  
He knew he couldn't. Sighing, Remus placed one hand firmly and twisted the doorknob, opening the old, creaky door and stepping slowly and sleepily into the hall. He looked down it, several other doors were open. Molly, Arthur, Mad-Eye and Tonks must be awake too, then. he thought. For a split second, Remus thought darkly that they could easily be enjoying breakfast together, chatting happily as if Sirius had never died at all.  
  
But Remus knew well that couldn't be true. They had all liked Sirius, perhaps not as much as he had, but that wasn't the point. Except for, maybe, Molly. Of course, Molly and Sirius had definantly liked each other enough. But Molly seemed to think of Sirius as an obstacle, a rival for Harry's affections. Quite childish of her, really.  
  
Remus began to descend the stairs, heading for the kitchen. Halfway down the long, wasted, old staircase, Remus stopped. He was glaring at the wall. Hanging from it, its top branches just visible from the step where he stood, was the Black family tree. 'Toujours pur'. Remus scoffed. Some motto. They were the opposite of pure. They were pure in wizard blood, but that was all. They had black hearts. They had driven Sirius from their midst. They had burned all the decent wizards off the tree, and now the tree was dead. Dead with the last of the Blacks.  
  
Remus tore his blue eyes away from the tapestry. He couldn't look at it, not without thinking of Sirius. Sirius's voice still haunted his thoughts, whispering in his ears and echoing in his head.  
  
Remus walked down to the kitchen. He entered to see Moody, Tonks, Arthur and Molly - eating breakfast, just as he had expected. However, they ate in such drear silence that Remus wasn't sure if they really were his friends at all.  
  
Molly looked up at him. She spoke, timidly, as if afraid he would lash out at her like some savage beast. "R-Remus? D'you want some breakfast? I . made your favorite, you know. Chocolate-chip pancakes and cinnamon toast."  
  
Remus shook his head. He didn't want to eat at all. He didn't feel up to it. However, he pulled out a chair and sat down between Tonks and Arthur, forcing a meek smile around the table before letting the others return to their silence.  
  
He felt like brooding. Sulking. Grieving. And that was exactly what he did. He thought of Sirius, imagined his friend wolfing down pancakes two at a time as only Sirius could do. He was angry that his friend wasn't here now. Angry almost beyond all reason. He wanted Sirius. He wanted him back, if he had to return to the death chamber in the department of mysteries and throw back that awful veil himself.  
  
But it was madness. He knew it was madness.  
  
Later, in fact rather late in the evening, Remus was 'helping' the others pack up Sirius's old things. He was doing it alone, of course. Molly was very tired, Moody was out somewhere doing hell knows what, Tonks was with Mad-Eye Moody, and Arthur had been called upon by Dumbledore to do something important for the Order. So Remus was alone in his friend's old bedroom, packing the things that held Sirius's memory inside them away.  
  
Half of him wondered why he did it, why he didn't keep everything for himself, or why he wasn't crying, or screaming.  
  
He laid his eyes on a large, leather-bound book. Picking it up, he grew quite curious and opened it to the first page.  
  
It was a photo album.  
  
Sirius Black's old photo album.  
  
Staring back at Remus was a far younger Sirius, James Potter, Lily Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and baby Harry. Harry's first Christmas. Remus remembered why he wasn't in the picture, it was the damned full moon that Christmas Eve.  
  
Staring into the eyes of his best friends as they waved jovially at him from the photograph, Remus clenched his teeth. It was impossible to imagine that just ten months after this picture was taken, James and Lily would be dead, and Peter would be as good as dead to him. It was even harder to imagine that mere days after that happened, his last friend would be carted off to Azkaban, not to be seen again for twelve years. And even more unthinkable was that two years after Remus and Sirius's less-then-happy reuinion, Sirius would be gone forever.  
  
A hot, salty tear began to stream down Remus's cheek. Letting out a short scream of agony, he threw the photo album to the ground, not caring in his blind rage that he ripped the page, destroying the picture of his best friends on their last Christmas together.  
  
It took him an age to regain his calmness. He picked up the book and put it down roughly inside a box, moving on to another book. Smaller this time. It looked like a journal. Remus remembered well what had happened the last time he had gotten curious and looked in on Sirius's stuff, as it was mere moments ago. However, he carefully opened the cover. He realized how old this diary was. It went back to October of 1981. He read the first entry.  
  
October 30th, 1981  
  
I'm beginning to think Peter may not have been the best choice for secret- keeper. I don't know why, I just . suspect him, somehow, I guess. Tomorrow night, I'll check on him.  
  
Sirius Black  
  
Remus frowned, disappointed that the entry was so short. Turning the page, he read the next one.  
  
November 1st, 1981  
  
Damn Wormtail! I can't believe him. He betrayed them. Lily and James. I never thought he was the traitor, the spy. I feel so sorry that I suspected Remus. Wonder if anyone suspected me? I know that now Remus probably hates me, he never knew that Lily and James switched their secret-keeper. Tomorrow, I'll go over to his house. I'll tell him everything. And if I run into little Peter on the way - he'll wish he'd never been born. Mark my words. I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight. James Potter. One of my best friends. Dead. Remus Lupin, the best friend of best friends, hating me. Peter Pettigrew, another of my best friends, turned traitor. I never would of thought things would end up this way. Sometimes I wish I was still a teenage boy at Hogwarts, without such troubles.  
  
Sirius Black  
  
By now, Remus's cheeks were drenched with tears, but he carried on, shakily turning the page. There were no updates for almost a year.  
  
October 31st, 1982  
  
I can't believe it. I've been here for a year on the 2nd November, and I still can't believe it. Sent to Azkaban. Framed. Framed by little Peter of all people! I can't believe it at all. What must Moony think of me now? And I was on my way over to talk to him, too. Damn. I daresay I hope Harry's doing well, and I hope that Remus has found himself a good, paying job. Even if I'll have to spend the rest of my life in this hellhole, I at least hope that my friends are alright.  
  
Sirius Black  
  
Remus suddenly felt angry, not just with Sirius for dying or with Bellatrix for killing him, but with himself. He was enraged that, while Sirius was scratching this note into his diary, he, Remus, was hating Sirius, hating him with all his heart.  
  
The next few pages were quite similar to the last, but Remus read them all. After each message, his heart ached more, he grew more and more angry every time Sirius mentioned him or Harry or James or Peter. Finally a fresher entry appeared.  
  
July 19th, 1993  
  
The minister came in to inspect us today. Nothing I haven't seen before. I talked to him, I think he was scared of me, but I asked politely and he gave me his newspaper. I had wanted to do the crossword, but something caught my eye. A picture of a family who had won some draw. Nothing to interesting - but on the youngest boy's shoulder! A rat. And not just any rat, Wormtail. He's going to Hogwarts with the boy, he's the boy's pet! What if he was after Harry? I can't let him harm Harry. I'll escape. One day. Soon.  
  
Sirius Black  
  
Remus was sobbing now. He couldn't help it. He missed his friend. Surprisingly, Sirius didn't write much until last year, at Grimmauld Place. Most of these were happier entries. The last one made it sound like Sirius was having the most wonderful time ever. It made Remus feel angry and sad. How could Sirius's life end so fast? Why did he need to die? He didn't. He barely had a chance to live.  
  
June 10th, 1996  
  
Harry seems to be doing fine, and things are fine here. I know one day I'll get my name cleared, and Voldemort will be vanquished, and everyone will be happy again. I don't know what made me write that, I just feel quite confident today, which is a miracle considering. Nothing too interesting has happened lately - nothing that they've been letting me in on, anyway. I'll write again when something interesting happens. Sirius Black  
  
Remus screamed. Just days before his own death, Sirius had written this! Did he have any idea? Did he know? How could he know? What did he do to deserve this? Sirius's life had been far too grim. He had deserved a chance, but it had been snatched away from him in mere moments.  
  
Remus threw the diary viciously into the box. He looked around the room, panting, still angry. He noticed that pretty much everything that could be boxed was packed up. All that remained was the shelves, dresser and bed.  
  
And that one thing, lying on the wooden shelf. Remus picked it up, noticing what it was.  
  
It was a large jar, with a silvery substance swirling around inside it. A pensieve.  
  
Remus did not know for sure what it contained, but he could guess. The most terrible moments of Sirius's already-terrible life. All the hatred, pain and fear. All the bitterness, sadness and anger. Everything that made Sirius's life as miserable as it was could be found, swirling inside a jar in Remus's hands.  
  
Anger was blinding him. For a long time he stood there, the jar full of cold memories in his hands. Sirius's worst memories. Everything that had made it horrible. Although Remus felt nothing more then blind rage, he could feel his body tremble and distantly heard sobs coming from himself.  
  
Everything that had made his best friend's life hell, in his hands.  
  
He threw the pensieve, emitting a scream of rage. He heard the echoing clatter of shattering glass, and let out yet another agonized screech. Sirius's memories were floating around and slowly vaporizing. Disappearing. No one would ever see these horrible moments in time again.  
  
He realized what he had done. He had destroyed a part of Sirius. He was torn between thinking he had done something good and something horrible. He fell to his knees, letting out another wail, a scream that echoed throughout all of Grimmauld Place.  
  
"SIRIUS!" He screamed, "SIRIUS!"  
  
No more memories. No more Sirius.  
  
"SIRIUS!" He called once more, his voice piercing the late-night silence.  
  
And then Remus Lupin put his face in his hands, and he began to cry harder then he had ever cried in his life.  
  
A/N - That's it, that's all. The end. Review, please! I understand it was a bit dramatic, but the angst-muse called. Feel lucky I didn't push poor Reemy to suicide. I did in this other angst fic I wrote, almost. =rambles= 


End file.
